


the interim

by chrisbbanger



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Forbidden Relationships, M/M, Minor Character Death, Platonic Relationships, Slice of Life, This is mostly angst, We're sorry, Will add tags along the way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-06-21 21:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15567051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrisbbanger/pseuds/chrisbbanger
Summary: to love and let go, love and let go, love and let go...it's the single most important thing we can learn in a lifetime.or lee jeno is forced to face reality. because it's useless to cling to people and experiences that were never his in the first place. everything in this world is fleeting.





	1. i. glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the official introduction of "the interim". thank you. hope you enjoy. - m

this is the thing; when you do something often enough, it becomes routine. jeno didn't need an epiphany to realize his entire existence was based upon a routine. from his beginning, he already knew his purpose. he didn't need to think about who he was, what to do, or how to go about his day. it was already planned out for him. he sleeps. he eats. he works. he goes home. he eats again. and he sleeps. there was no need to question the routine because it worked. there was nothing wrong with living under a predetermined schedule. jeno had a roof over his head, food to fill his stomach, and work-mates to provide him the occasional companionship.

 

despite his acceptance of the routine, he still kept track of his day: what time he woke up, how long it takes for him to get ready, etc. every part of his existence is calculated. jeno found that he always awoke at exactly 3:45 a.m. to a continuous beeping coming from a bedside alarm clock. he hadn't set the alarm for himself, but it was obvious that his creators did. after sitting up in his single bed and recollecting himself from a drowsy state, jeno would step into his house slippers and walk into the bathroom. it was now 3:50 a.m.

 

there was a single white toothbrush in an empty glass, sitting atop a white porcelain sink. the mirror above the sink additionally served the purpose as a door of a medicine cabinet. though there was no medicine there, jeno could always find the toothpaste laid out beside a can of aftershave and a razor. every morning, he'd brush his teeth for three minutes. after that, he would shave, which takes only about thirty seconds to a minute considering that he shaves every morning. next comes the toner and moisturizer, which were placed neatly beside one another on the second shelf. this also takes him about one minute. his last task in the bathroom is to fix his hair. jeno takes a brush from the third shelf, running it through his hair to untangle its messed strands from sleep. he then squirts hair product into his right palm, exactly two times -- just enough to shape his front hair and have some left over to smooth out the fly-aways. expertly, he'd grab the comb and shape his hair into a side-parted quiff. by the time he's finished and washed away the excess gel from his hands, it is 4 a.m.

 

his closet can be found behind two double doors, just beside the entrance to his bathroom. jeno opens it to find crisp sections of black, white, grey, and other neutrals. additionally, each section is divided by garment. slacks are hung together, along with the dress shirts, blazers, vests, and ties. beneath the hanging garments are grey cabinets. the top most holds his house and sleeping wear, the middle with his undergarments, and the bottom with his socks. today, jeno is guided to wear a black suit, no vest, with a grey tie. changing into the suit takes him about eight minutes, with the additional minute of finding and putting on his fitted grey socks. he closes the sock drawer, sets apart the empty hangers to one end of the rack, and folds his sleeping wear atop the cabinet. by the time, he fixes his bed and cleans the bathroom, it's time for him to leave his one bedroom apartment.

 

like usual, jeno is stepping out the door at 4:15 a.m. he was stationed to live on the seventh floor of the building, between an elderly couple and a family of three. today was july 21st, a saturday. of course, at this hour and day, none of his neighbors are awake, so he shuts and locks his apartment door with care. the elevator ride down is quiet, aside from the occasional rattle and toss. arriving at the ground floor, jeno straightens his blazer and walks past the mailroom and main office. he knows from the door sign that they're closed on sundays and run from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m monday through saturday. the office is never open when jeno leaves and comes back from work though.

 

as he steps out of the apartment building, he's met with cool, early morning air and a dark sky. the streets are empty of passing cars, but he can see a few pedestrians scattered about the sidewalks. their appearance reminds jeno to look at his wristwatch. there's six minutes until 4:30 a.m., when he usually sits at one of the benches in the park across the street. his schedule only requires that he meets at the park with yeri at 4:45 a.m., but jeno finds time to breathe on his own in those fifteen minutes… not that he really needs it.

 

he chooses to sit at one of the benches beside the man-made pond in the park, even though yeri is scheduled to meet him at the corner bench near the intersection at bell and holly street. this bench gave a perfect view of the entire park. jeno could see everything and everyone this way. there were some joggers there, passing jeno every now and then. he can recognize all of them by now, as most were following a routine for exercising every week. only a handful strictly followed their workout routine, while the others jeno had found to skip days that they'd usually be jogging about the park.

 

it was these things that jeno found odd about humans. their attraction to variety and lack of focus made their lives hectic and in need of correcting. often he'd hear them complain about their schedules, saying that they're in need of “fixing" them. jeno knows that their schedules wouldn't need “fixing" if humans just followed schedules as they should be. they could do all that they needed if they just followed after a schedule, stuck to a routine. if humans did that, they wouldn't complain to jeno so much about all they couldn't get done in life. humans were free to do as much as they wanted with their lives, yet often they waste it away with hopes of things getting done tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. in the end, jeno knew it was meaningless for humans to hold onto regrets, to hold onto these lives at all. in their lifetimes, it was better for them to keep moving forward. why keep yourself dwelling on what’s behind when there’s more ahead? jeno picks himself off the bench and brushes off his slacks before checking his watch again: 4:42 a.m.

 

he's seated at the original bench in no more than a minute, and soon yeri is walking to him, coffee holder and paper bag in her hands. she arrives at 4:45 a.m. as per usual, yeri hands jeno his cup of coffee and fishes out his sandwich. it's chicken salad again. most times, they sit in silence, with yeri focusing her attention on her breakfast and jeno slowly eating away at his own. yeri’s always been there since jeno first came into existence. she was apparently created a year before him, in 2015. and as the city grew, there was further need for more of them to be stationed there. soon enough, jeno came into existence to work with her, to “lessen the workload". with a population of over ten million and rate of 5.5 to the country, it was highly anticipated that more would be stationed with each year. when jeno takes a look at yeri, he sees that she was scheduled to wear a beige, patterned suit and white gloves. yeri notices his staring and chooses then to break the silence. she’s usually the one that does so anyways.

 

“i had an appointment at 4:07,” she says, folding a napkin and patting at the corner of her lips. “it was a child, five years old. kun met with her parents a few minutes earlier. their house was broken into.” yeri holds her hand out, and jeno hands over his own dirtied napkin and bundled plastic wrapper from the sandwich. she stuffs their trash into the paper bag and gets up to toss it into the waste bin nearby. jeno continues to sit and wait for her to continue talking. he realizes then that yeri must have been scheduled to wake up earlier today due to her appointment. a part of him wonders if she's tired. he scans over her figure and sees no apparent sign of drowsiness, then again it was rare that their kind showed excessive emotion. yeri fixes her cufflinks before checking her own wristwatch. “it's only thirty minutes until sunrise. you have an appointment then?” it's more of a statement than a question. afterall, she already knew his schedule for today --- everyone in their company knew. “the weather will be nice.”

 

jeno looks up at the sky and nods. it was still just as dark as it was before, but he knows that around 5:30 a.m. is when the sky begins to visibly change for sunrise. right now it was only 5:14 a.m. he already has a prediction for the cause of his upcoming appointment. around this time of day, appointments seemed to be of the same nature, and 5:30 a.m. is the start of rush hour. he downs the remainder of his coffee but keeps the cup held in his hands. the silence has settled once again, and jeno relishes in listening to the city awaken around him. cars are starting to drive down the streets, and more pedestrians have joined to walk or jog around the park. a young couple pass jeno and yeri then. they're both wearing matching running gear and sport the same running shoes. he overhears them making plans for dinner and finds himself nodding along. they're soon out of earshot, and the coffee cup in his hands has lost its warmth. jeno decides then to get up and finally toss the waste.

 

he still has twenty-two minutes until his appointment, but it was obvious that his business here was done. jeno bids yeri goodbye, thanking her once again for the meal, and walks to the appointment location. it's at a four-way intersection between parker avenue and bell street, ten blocks north of the park. jeno sees that there's more cars passing there than at the other intersections a few blocks down. he has twelve minutes until he meets his client at 5:44 a.m., and waiting about the intersection seemed impractical. thus he walks into a cafe just beside the appointment location. the cafe opened earlier than the business it was attached to, so jeno could observe early workers seated about the cafe -- getting their morning coffee. most of the business persons are seated together, likely coworkers. jeno sits alone at a table of four. there isn't time for him to get another coffee, so he silently waits for time to pass. the bell hung over the entrance of the cafe rings, and jeno peeks behind to get a glimpse of the new customer. he has a backpack slung over his shoulder and is wearing a simple white tee with jeans. the young man is a few centimetres shorter than jeno, with light brown hair and tan skin. he's on his phone, conversing with a presumed significant other. jeno can't hear the person on the other line, but he assume from the young man’s responses that they're nagging.

 

“i won't, i won't… i know how to ride a bike, dumbass- no, you don't need to pick me up! i can get there on my own, mark… yes, i’ll be very careful.” he picks up his order from the barista, bowing his head to thank them. “i’ll see you soon. yeah, i love you, too.” the young man ends the call and tucks his phone away into his back pocket. the pick-up order is zipped into his backpack, and he thanks the barista once again. he skips out the cafe and mounts his bicycle, removing the lock gear. jeno adverts his attention to his wristwatch.

 

one… two… three… four… five… six...

 

a crash, a car horn blaring. all the people in the cafe have gotten up to look out the window. there's shocked gasps, hushed comments of worry. a few even leave the cafe to check out the incident just outside. jeno clears his throat, adjusts his tie, and walks out the cafe. step after step, he gets closer to the crosswalk, where his client is standing, bicycle at his side, and rummaging through his backpack. it's 5:44 a.m., right on the dot. more people have flocked to the scene on the street. traffic at parker and bell has momentarily stopped. there's a broken phone lying next to the gutter. jeno taps on the young man’s shoulder and immediately gains his attention.

 

“oh, hi… do you need something?” he’s still searching through his backpack. “sorry, i can't find my phone. i swear i put it in my pocket-"

 

“lee donghyuck, 21 years old. death at 5:44 a.m.” jeno says. his voice comes off monotone and detached. “cause of death: cyclist-vehicular collision.” jeno can see the confusion in the young man’s eyes. he wonders if he'll be like other clients and run away, but the young man just stands there with his mouth agape. “i’ve been sent here to escort you from this lifetime.” the young man absentmindedly nods and zips up his backpack. he takes a deep breath and turns around to face the street before him. a disappointed laugh. jeno sees the young man bitterly smile. the young man brings his hands up to his light brown hair, tugging at the strands before easing his grip.

 

“god, this… this isn't happening.”

 

there's an ambulance pulled up behind the motor vehicle. the young man takes in a shaky breath as he sees his body being picked up and rolled away on a gurney. he nearly crumples to the ground if not for his bicycle supporting him. his actual bicycle was lying on the asphalt, bent in the middle with skid marks across its left side. his phone is next to the gutter. the young man timidly bends down to pick it up, hand flinching as he gets closer. but the second his hand comes in contact with the phone, it phases through. jeno blinks as he watches the young man’s shaking figure. most of his clients have gone through this phase of shock, so he isn't concerned when the young man releases a sob. he watches over him, hands at his side as he waits for the young man to finish. it takes him only three minutes, much faster than his most recent client, who took half-an-hour to recover from the shock. the young man is wiping his face of his tears, hiccuping and swallowing down the remainder of his sobs. he's mumbling things to himself, about how he really should've been careful, how he's sorry to his family and friends. the young man sucks in a deep breath, then exhales.

 

jeno clears his throat and presses onward. he maneuvers himself to stand beside the young man. “shall we move on?” the young man nods, and jeno begins walking. there's policemen at the collision site now, interrogating passerbys, witnesses, and the vehicle’s driver. the young man follows behind jeno, glancing back at the incident every few seconds. jeno, on the other hand, looks forward, spotting the doorway to the company business down the block. the door stands alone, completely out of place among the city. living humans couldn't see it, but jeno can imagine how they would react based on his clients’ reactions. the young man’s reaction is no different. he gapes at the oddity of a white, sliding door appearing from nowhere but makes no comment as he's led through.

 

the door closes behind them automatically, and suddenly the two are in a place resembling that of an average home’s living room. most clients’ transitioning room mirrors their own home, or at least a place they're fond of. jeno’s creators found that familiar transition rooms make clients easier to work with, despite where they end up. he sits at one of the single chairs, while the young man settles into the couch. the young man keeps looking around the room, fidgeting in his seat. the coffee table between them has a pitcher of water, a full glass, a small box, and a clipboard. jeno takes the clipboard into his hands to review over the material, while his client helps himself to the glass. when jeno reads over the documents, he sees that the young man has already lived five of his seven lifetimes. out of the five, this is the only one in which he hasn't lived past the age of sixty. in all his other lifetimes, his client died of old age or heart disease, so jeno can understand the young man’s physical shock from his death. he puts down the clipboard and looks at the young man.

 

“lee donghyuck, you are assigned to pass from this lifetime into your next. this will be your sixth lifetime.” he sees that his client has already finished the water. the young man’s hands are tightly wrapped around the glass, making his knuckles white. jeno pushes the box closer to the young man. “upon eating this, you will forget all events of this lifetime and will be able to move onto the next.” he opens the box for his client, revealing a small, circular tablet. “this can be chewed or dissolved in the mouth, or in water, for consumption. shall i get you more water?”

 

“so… you're the grim reaper?” the young man asks. jeno nods. while that isn't his kind’s official name, that is how humans have come to learn them by. “and i’m dead.” it's not a question, so jeno remains still. “i’m not on… one of those… those prank shows, right? this is too elaborate to be a prank.” jeno nods again, and the young man does, too, as if to convince himself of reality. “and you want me to take… that… to forget about this lifetime… and… and move on? what if i refuse?” there's the token question. jeno got it often, but no matter how many times he explained to humans, they could never fully accept it. was it so difficult for humans to let go of the past? to continue on to live a new day? with each passing day and every lifetime, humans had the chance to live anew. they wouldn't be able to compare between their past lives, but there was always potential.

 

jeno shakes his head. “you're required to. i cannot permit you to enter into your new lifetime unless you take this tablet.” he sees his client shift, eyes fixed on the little white tablet. “would you like more water?” he asks again, and the young man thanks him. jeno takes away the glass and grabs the pitcher, filling the glass once again. when he tries to hand it back to his client, he finds the young man staring at a clock hung on the wall behind jeno.

 

the young man chuckles, “mark must be worried…” he bites his lip and sucks in a breath, tilting his head up to prevent tears from falling. “his birthday’s in two weeks. i hope he gets my present by then.” he averts his gaze back to jeno, thanking the “reaper” for the water. his hands are still shaking when he takes the glass from jeno, though not as much as before. jeno watches him slowly grab the tablet between his index finger and thumb, dropping it into the glass. it takes the tablet a minute and ten seconds to completely dissolve, making the water appear cloudier. the young man inspects the glass with squinted eyes, gulping from anxiety and anticipation. “i won’t remember anything, you said? nothing at all?” he doesn’t need to look up from the glass to know that jeno is silently nodding in reply. “can you… give me a moment? sorry for stalling; i just need to process more before you… you send me off.” the projected end of the appointment should have been 6:39 a.m., but with the client’s delay, it’s likely that jeno would go overtime. he nods anyways, granting the young man time to gather himself.

 

in the meantime, jeno reviews over the young man’s file once again. he reads in detail about his most recent lifetime: his childhood, his family, the schools he attended, his friends. it’s a perfect documentation of lee donghyuck’s life. “at least i won’t have to finish that thesis, huh?” jeno overhears the young man chuckle to himself. “can’t walk down that stage for some rolled up piece of paper… shit, mom would’ve wanted that picture for the living room.” jeno peers at the file, recalling that lee donghyuck was a fourth-year student in college, studying under a bachelor's degree in fine arts. “i really am sorry. thank you so much for everything.” donghyuck mumbles into the air. he’s run out of tears to cry at this point, so he just sniffles. jeno notices and offers donghyuck a handkerchief, pulling it from his chest pocket.

 

jeno presses once again. “are you ready now?” donghyuck snickers in reply and wipes at the corner of his eyes, hoping to dry any potential tears from spilling. his hands grip onto the handkerchief, and unconsciously he’s holding it to his chest -- as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded and connected. when donghyuck tries to hand it back, jeno declines. “you can keep it.” jeno’s never done this before, but he assumes that it is only polite to offer his clients assistance for a more comfortable transition into the next life. donghyuck thanks him and finally takes the glass into his hands. with a final squeeze of the handkerchief, donghyuck tips the glass over and drinks every last drop of the water. jeno takes the empty glass from donghyuck and gets up from his seat, patting his slacks. he instructs donghyuck to follow. a door opens along the wall adjacent to the couch. on the other side of the doorway is nothing but bright light, though it isn’t blinding. jeno has accepted that the light glows at an acceptable amount. it’s bright enough that upon first glance, it may irritate the eyes, but after awhile, it is a comforting brightness. he looks at donghyuck and ushers him to pass through. “i wish you well into your next lifetime.” instead of stepping forward, donghyuck spares jeno a glance one last time, the handkerchief clenched tightly in his fist. he doesn’t hear it, but jeno can clearly make out that donghyuck is thanking him. donghyuck takes his final steps. his body is enveloped in a warm, white light before the door slides shut behind him, and jeno is left alone.

 

when he turns on his heel, jeno finds himself back at the park bench at the intersection of bell and holly street. yeri is still seated there, too, her eyes transfixed on her wristwatch. she peers up at jeno and blinks in curiosity. “you’re two minutes overtime,” she states before bringing her arm down to settle onto her lap. “your handkerchief is missing, too.” jeno doesn’t respond and sits beside her once again. his body is scrunched together, as if there was little room on the bench for him and yeri. his shoulders are boxed in and slightly raised, hands held together in a fixed position. yeri pays him no mind and leaves for her next appointment without a word. upon her departure, jeno’s shoulders relax. his hands are still together, though. he doesn’t understand the momentary behavior and nearly dismisses it if not for his hands… jeno was still clasping onto the empty glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all comments are appreciated,, feel free to leave your thoughts, responses, or reviews!


	2. ii. warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait! i've have been swept with so much work these past months that we haven't had time to post or be active on here/any other social media.
> 
> once again, sorry for the wait! sorry for our lack of english skills, and hope you enjoy, thank you!

jeno awakens to a grey ceiling and a white ceiling fan. the continuous beeping has filled the quiet space of his room, beckoning jeno to shut off the offending alarm. he blinks away the drowsiness, and the routine begins. jeno’s mornings are perfectly scheduled, and, like always, he strictly follows it. from one day to another, it was rinse and repeat. he cycles through his wardrobe, the park benches are always unoccupied, people live, people die, that's all. days are tacked on to days without rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition that jeno played a part in. he was a cog on a rotating gear, simply moving along in ever-constant system of clockwork, for it was time that gave his existence a purpose.

 

when his morning routine is complete, it's 4:09 a.m., giving him six minutes until 4:15 to make the bed, clean the bathroom, and leave the apartment. and just like that, the bed is made, the bathroom is cleaned. jeno adjusts his black tie and sets a course for the door. he's turning a corner at the kitchen’s marble-top counter when something catches his eye, something out of place. he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel, mind momentarily put off by the unsuspected change. eyes scan over the empty kitchen. it was always empty and was never put into use. the cabinets held nothing, nor did the refrigerator or freezer. all that occupied the kitchen was one case of bottled water, which was restocked every week by his creators. but it wasn't the bottle water that caught his eye, it was a glass. it was left unwashed since yesterday, placed beside the sink to deal with at another time. residue of the tablet lingered at at the glass’s bottom, making the glass appear even dirtier than it was. jeno turned on the faucet and began to rinse the glass.

 

the residue quickly washes away. he had no dish washer to thoroughly clean the glass, nor dish towels to for it to dry. he makes due with using the hand soap and hand towel. jeno handles the glass with care as he places it into one of the overhead cabinets, gently pushing it into the far corner. the cabinet is shut, and jeno returns to the routine. he steps out of the apartment at 4:19 a.m.

 

unlike yesterday, he has an appointment at 4:48 a.m., meaning that he had no time to visit the park today and wasn't scheduled to meet with yeri for breakfast. the walk to the appointment location was five miles from the apartment complex. this means he'd also have to call for a company car. rarely did he need to use the pager, as most of his appointments were in walking distance of the park or had enough idle time for him to walk the entire way. jeno pulls out a small, palm-sized pager from the inside pocket of his blazer. each of his blazers had them, always tucked away in case of emergencies or simple car requests. he types in a curt note (“i need a car”) before slipping the pager into his pocket and walking to the elevator.

 

as he reaches the ground floor, the pager beeps, and he fishes it from the pocket again. there, on the screen, is a short reply (“car arrived"). jeno squints to see out the doors of the lobby. it's a black, subcompact car with tinted windows. the company’s logo can be found as a decal on the driver's door, nearly invisible if not for the slight variance in shade. he pushes past the doors of the lobby and immediately turns about the car to enter at the passenger seat. as he opens the passenger door, jeno's met with a familiar face. over the past two years of his existence, he's learned the names and faces of the other curators stationed at this city. this particular curator was named wong yukhei. he was created a year before jeno but was stationed in hong kong until recently. yukhei had been working in this city for only six months, maintaining his schedule as not only a curator but a driver for the company.

 

“jeno… haven't seen you in awhile.” it's been five months. yukhei hasn't seen jeno since they were first introduced. because yukhei also functioned as a driver, his appointments were often scattered about the city, unlike jeno and yeri, whose appointments were mostly focused in specific districts. jeno closes the door and nods to yukhei in response. the small talk that yukhei was starting ends just like that, and immediately they're driving to the hospital. jeno realizes then that yukhei also has an appointment at the hospital, an hour after jeno’s. he would be in a different unit, though. if he recalls correctly, yukhei’s appointment was in the p.i.c.u. jeno's appointment was in the c.i.c.u. it was expected that yukhei’s would be there, though. both yukhei and yeri were assigned to deal with younger clients, while jeno dealt with adults or the elderly. he momentarily wonders how different his job would be if he were to escort younger clients.

 

jeno’s thoughts soon drift away, leaving him to idly stare out the car window. it was still too early for pedestrians, being that is was only 4:29 a.m. despite this, he still finds himself entranced in the scattered remnants of humanity. posters plastered along street lamps, the occasional glimpse of graffiti, cars passing by with early morning workers at the wheel, a bicycle chained to a fence. the image of an empty glass flashes before his eyes, and jeno shakes his head, gaining the attention of yukhei. the older curator doesn't say anything, but his eyes occasionally fall over jeno. jeno has his eyes closed for the remainder of the drive. when they arrive at the hospital, yukhei parks along the street outside the c.i.c.u. the older curator mentions something about jeno helping him for his next appointment -- something jeno's only done with regular curators. some adult clients were prone to lashing out, even doing so much as running away when faced with their death. a couple times jeno's needed assistance, and he's often done his part in assisting other curators. accompanying a youth curator to an appointment? this was new.

 

jeno brushes the information aside, bidding yukhei a temporary goodbye before heading inside the hospital building. there's a rather large family in the waiting room, pacing about green-cushioned chairs. presumably, it's the mother at the front row, her hands clasped together. she has a rosary wrapped around her fingers, and she's praying in a hushed tone, eyes shut tightly. her three children are sat behind her, though they weren't children at all but adults. they spoke of heart attacks, how it ran in the family, their father's recent health conditions, their mother's anxiety, how their own children would react. more children, actual children this time. overall, there were six. two girls, one about the age of eight and the other about thirteen. the remaining four were all boys. the eldest could also be thirteen, maybe even a few years older. then there was another boy, also appearing to be eight. and lastly, there were the youngest two. they were twins, no older than five years old. unlike the other children, they were fast asleep, leaning against one another beneath their baby blue blanket.

 

there was seven minutes until the appointment. jeno clears his throat and walks past the anxious family. he doesn't miss how one of the twins awakens, innocently asking what was happening. jeno pushes open the double doors and leaves the growing tension of the waiting room behind him. it takes him two minutes to navigate through the c.i.c.u. hospitals were so complicated in assigning rooms for patients. humans were moved from room to room without official record, often making hospital appointments difficult for curators. he finds the particular room, operating room 241a, and patiently waits outside for the next five minutes. right on cue, a middle-aged man emerges from the room. he's in pajama wear, a white t-shirt and loose-fitting, cotton black pants. his feet are bare against the tiled floor. jeno could tell that it was cold from how the man slightly flinched as he took his first steps out of the room. the man looks up and down the hall before his glance falls onto jeno.

 

he squints and blinks a few times. “do you know where i am? i can tell you don't work here, but i’m lost. looks like a-"

 

“a hospital. you're in a hospital.” jeno glances at his watch, then back to the man. “son youngmin, seventy-five years old. death at 4:48 a.m. cause of death: heart failure.” there's no reaction this time, no bitter smiles or sobs. the man’s face is just as blank of jeno’s. “i am here to escort you into your next lifetime, sir. if you would please follow me…” the curator is just about to turn when the man heads in the opposite direction, back to where the waiting room is. jeno wasn't expecting to have a difficult client for his first appointment of the day, but he accepts the slight inconvenience. there was still an hour and fifty-one minutes until he’d have to meet with yukhei. he follows after the silent man, who manages to navigate through the white walls of the c.i.c.u. as if he's been here before. jeno says nothing as the man throws open the doors to the waiting room, where his family was still anxiously gathered. jeno saw that the twins were asleep again, their blanket keeping them warm under the cold air conditioning. “sir.”

 

“one moment, please. i’d like to say ‘goodbye’ before i leave.”

 

the weary man shuffles closer to his family. no tears were present in his eyes as he knelt before his wife, wrapping his hands over her own as she prayed and prayed. he tightened his hold, kissing the knuckle over her ring and speaking something beneath his breath. the man’s voice was soft and gentle, barely over a whisper. he slowly rose from his knees to place a kiss on his wife’s forehead, his hands squeezing her own one last time before he proceeded to his children and grandchildren. his arms came over each of them in an embrace as he sent them his praise, wisdom, and wishes. the air conditioner was temporarily shut off for its hourly cycle. the man bids his final goodbye to the twin boys when the doors of the waiting room open once again. a doctor walks in, head down and sweat forming on his brow. jeno and the man leave before the doctor can even utter the first syllable of his condolences.

 

like usual, a door appears. this one is white with chipped paint and small window adorned with lace curtains. jeno turns the squeaky knob, allowing the man to enter before him. he notices children's toys scattered on the ground, pictures lining the walls. a tv can be heard, broadcasting a football match. there's a lingering smell in the air of freshly prepared food. quilts are strewn across the couch and floor, as if there were people there before, once wrapped in their warmth. the man takes in the scenery without question, making himself comfortable on the fabric, brown couch before them. jeno settles on the other side of the couch, as there isn't a separate chair for him this time. as the man continues to scan the room, jeno forces himself to focus on the clipboard before him. instead, he finds himself distracted, not by the man but by the man’s transition room. it was warm, perhaps too warm. jeno could feel his button-up’s collar sticking to his neck, suddenly feeling far tighter than it actually was. he gives a small tug to his tie, loosening it. at this moment, the man finally turns to jeno with a smile.

 

“it's just like home. yunji always leaves her toys on the couch,” he emphasizes this by pulling out a stuffed bear from under him. the man places it on the coffee table in front of them, his eyes softening at the sight. “and daeryul and daeun, too. you want to check your side… might find a toy there.” the man lets out a hearty laugh, and suddenly jeno’s hands are clammy. he doesn't find any toys there like the man said, but his hands do grab onto a handful of fleece. the man looks down at the coffee table and gestures to the glass of water and tablet. “i take this?” jeno nods, about to speak before the man pops the tablet into his mouth and downs the water. “don't worry. i’m old, pretty used to taking meds by now.” he chuckles. “what's the news, junior? what happens next?”

 

jeno's put off by the name, by the familiarity. it's too warm. he stands, practically throwing off the blankets as if he's been burned. jeno straightens his blazer, fixes his tie, and breathes out. the man notices his discomfort and also pulls back, leaning further into the couch. jeno clears his throat. “son youngmin, you have been assigned to move into your next lifetime. this will be your third lifetime. the tablet that you have taken is to ensure you do not remember the events and experiences of this lifetime.”

 

“hae-eun would nag at me for days if i forget our anniversary,” the man jesters. he sits up from the couch, eyes traveling to one of the walls. there's picture frames there, but all are blank, holding nothing but white paper. the man get up and takes one of the frames down. he chuckles once more before a smile falls over his face, and he continues. “i remember our 25th anniversary. the waiter spilled wine all over me. i was so angry, but hae-eun… oh, her laughter. when i looked up, it was like i fell in love all over again. she's so beautiful, so bright. i'd never want to forget that… never want to forget any of this.” he pats the frame and holds it closely to his chest, closing his eyes. “but there's no choice, huh?” he opens his eyes and looks to jeno. the smile is still there, but the man's eyes are solemn. “i'm ready. lead me there.”

 

jeno makes the mistake of making eye contact at that moment, and he's brought back to yesterday's appointment. tanned skin and light brown hair, a smile that never faltered but carried too much emotion. he sees the same with this man. jeno unbuttons his collar and loosens his tie even more. he swallows and finds his throat dry. it's incredibly warm. “if… if you step through the door to your left, you may proceed into your next lifetime.” he stands beside the door, opening it. “i wish you well in your next lifetime.” he tries to look away once the man steps through, tries not to let his eyes linger. but when he hears the faint goodbye, the ‘thank you, he steps away to face the light. it's warm, so so warm, and jeno is in discomfort. his eyes stare straight into the light, watching as the man's figure fades away. the door shuts on its own, and once again, jeno is alone. the warmth is still there, though. nonetheless, jeno clears his throat, closes his eyes, and readjusts his suit. collar buttoned, tie straightened out, he leaves the transitioning room and puts the appointment behind him.

 

he opens his eyes to look at his wristwatch. it's 5:39 a.m., marking only nine more minutes until yukhei’s appointment begins. the walk to the p.i.c.u isn't long. he arrives with only three minutes to spare, finding yukhei in the waiting room. he's confused for a moment. no one was there. shouldn't the appointment meeting be stationed in one of the patient's rooms? when he greets the older curator, yukhei only nods and gestures for jeno to sit. “the client will be here soon.” so they sit there for the remaining time, no words exchanged, simply waiting. yukhei is the first to move, walking across the room to a little toy section. he stands to the side, looking down. jeno expects a child to come walking through the waiting room doors and skip right over to yukhei’s side. instead, a child just appears before yukhei, too occupied to notice his presence. it’s a little girl. her hair is done up in small pigtails, and she's wearing a pastel yellow, patterned nightgown. her height reaches just above yukhei’s knees.

 

“hello,” yukhei greets, squatting down to the young girl's height. she turns from the toys in front of her and looks to yukhei with big, round eyes. yukhei holds his hand out, and she reaches to meet him halfway, shyly shaking his hand. “i’m xuxi. what's your name?” yeri's told him about that. some youth curators had too difficult of names for children to pronounce and often used another alias. nonetheless, this was an incredibly new experience for jeno. his face is blank as he watches the strange exchange between the two. jeno has never known that youth curators handled children differently than how regular curators handled adults. in the two years of his existence, not once did jeno see a youth curator work. he'd never seen yeri’s appointments, nor asked about her work technique even though he was scheduled to meet with her nearly every day. the exchange between yukhei and the girl seemed far too human for jeno to even keep up. despite jeno knowing that yukhei was speaking with faux sweetness, the short conversation left him stunned. the behavior was completely unlike a curator’s natural mannerism. he never even knew they were capable of speaking in such a way. “jinah? choi jinah? and how old are you, jinah?”

 

the little girl holds four fingers out and exclaims, “four! i’m four now!” jeno is taken aback when he sees yukhei smile… he _smiles_. it was unnatural. the girl leans closer to yukhei’s ear, doing her best to whisper but failing. “my birthday’s- my birthday’s in august! i’ll be five!” she nods her head quickly, and yukhei nods along. “is that your friend?” she exclaims, and jeno finally notices the young girl pointing right at him. “what's his name? is he…” she leans in once again to (not so quietly) whisper to yukhei. “is he a loner?” yukhei shakes his head and beckons jeno to come over and join them. he'd rather stay in his spot. the waiting room chairs were comfortable. he could cool off beneath the air conditioning. “hello!” the girl called, and jeno found himself on his feet and coming their way.

 

yukhei quietly instructed for jeno to introduce himself. “i'm jeno lee.” the girl frowned at his curt introduction, turning away from the regular curator and beckoning yukhei to play with her instead. jeno blinked, unsure if he should return back to his seat or continue standing there. jinah twisted around, shoving one of the toy robots in jeno's hands before continuing to play “house” with yukhei. the older curator motioned for jeno to join them, and suddenly he was squatted down beside jinah.

 

the young girl babbled on and on, teetering a barbie doll along the edge of the children's table set. yukhei also played along, answering to jinah's tangents with faux interest. jeno didn't know what to do with himself. the toy robot in his hand remained stationary, held up straight and to the farthest corner of the table. he wondered how long this would go on. were youth curators obligated to cater to young children's demands? was jeno, a temporary assistant, obligated to do the same? jeno is caught off guard when jinah suddenly crashes her barbie into his robot, causing the toy to fall from jeno's hand and topple to the floor. jinah gasps and exclaims, “mr. robot! he fell!” she toggles her barbie doll to stand beside yukhei's own robot toy, to which jinah named “mr. bolts”. “what can we do?” her barbie dolls is waved about dramatically, occasionally bumping into yukhei’s shoulder. jeno’s eyes switch from watching a frantic jinah to glancing down at his fallen robot.

 

“he’s gone. we can't do anything,” yukhei replies, and jeno is brought back to completely listening to the conversation. jinah huffs, obviously unsatisfied with yukhei's reasoning. she turns to jeno, wanting to hear his input. ,but jeno simply sat there, blank-faced and silent. wasn't his robot dead? what more could be done? perhaps yukhei's robot and jinah's barbie could have a funeral. humans held such events to commemorate recently passed colleagues. jeno found funerals to be odd, of course. he could never understand why humans mourned the passing of another, or why humans would let this passing consume their lives. it was far more efficient to move on, to not dwell on losses or the past. not everything is yours to keep.

 

jinah shrieks, surprising both yukhei and jeno. “mr. robot! he's alive again! and he was secretly a magical prince!” she picks up jeno's robot, flailing it through the air and making whoosh whoosh sounds before placing it in jeno's hand again. “we missed you, mr. robot!” she nudges jeno's hand with her barbie, badgering him for some response. “mr. robot! didn't you miss us, too?”

 

_i missed you._

 

jeno shakes his head and sees jinah squealing, excitedly flailing her barbie about. she chattered on about this ridiculous game of “house”, leaving jeno to quietly sit there once again (occasionally waddling his robot toy behind jinah's). at some point, jinah declared that yukhei's robot was an evil wizard, trapping jinah’s barbie and smiting jeno's robot (magical prince). by the end of the game, they, mostly jinah, had played out nearly fifteen scenarios, all of which leaped through a plethora of genres like fantasy to spies. but finally the time came for the appointment to come to an end, and jinah got up on her own, stretching her arms out and letting out an exaggerated yawn. she drowsily looked at yukhei and jeno, arms crossing over her chest. “i'm tired… can we go now?” yukhei nodded in response, getting up from his squatting position and holding a hand out to jinah. she instantly took it before holding her other hand out to jeno and sending him a toothy grin. “you have to go, too!” jeno doesn't say anything as the young girl's little fingers reach to curl around his thumb and she begins to tug. he doesn't say anything when he gets up to walk beside her.

 

with jinah leading, they walk out the waiting room, out of the hospital, and all the way to a small children's park just outside of the hospital gates. jeno half expects for jinah to go running, to skip off to the bright colored swing set and twisty slide with a wide grin on her face. but she doesn't. instead, she releases jeno's hand and walks forward with yukhei. before them appears a bright yellow door with butterfly and princess stickers scattered all over it. jinah's name is hung up from a sign at the top, also decorated with stickers. she faces yukhei, thanking him, and, in return, yukhei pats the top of her head, keeping his gloved hand there for awhile. once yukhei's hand is off, jinah turns to look at jeno and immediately smiles. he hears jinah give a faint thank you and goodbye. and just like that, she begins to lean against the door, her hands curled over the door knob. she twists the door knob to the right, leaning her weight against the door more and more until it's open enough for her to slip through. the comfortable silence is broken by yukhei then, and suddenly the warmth is back. “i wish you well in your next lifetime.”

 

was yukhei not going to accompany her to the transitioning room? was he not going to administer the tablet? at the beginning of the appointment, yukhei did not even announce jinah's time of death or the cause of death. before jeno can wonder anymore, the door is opened wide, the bright light from beyond startling jeno despite its familiarity. he closes his eyes, but the last thing he sees is jinah waving goodbye. after that, jeno keeps his eyes shut, far too uncomfortable with this much warmth. his body even shudders at the sound of the door slamming shut. his hand begins to feel uncomfortably clammy, forcing jeno to release it from its clenched state. all the while, his eyes are still closed. sooner or later, he would need to give a report to his creators about these recent sensitivities. only a few more seconds pass before jeno finally opens his eyes and a cooling breeze passes him. the door is gone, and yukhei is pulling his gloves off his hands.

 

“thank you for your help, jeno,” yukhei says, “i'll send a report with your reference.” once his gloves have been pulled off, he saunters to one of the nearby trash cans and discards them. “i have another appointment in an hour across town. i should be leaving in a few minutes.” as he speaks, yukhei is taking out another pair of gloves from his pockets, sliding them over his hands. “would you like to be dropped off somewhere, or may i leave you here? your next appointment is in five hours.”

 

“i can stay here. the appointment is in walking distance.” by the time jeno is finished declining yukhei's offer, the older curator has already begun walking off to the hospital's visitor parking. there's still questions that linger in his mind from the appointment, especially for the lack of guidance towards the end, but jeno leaves these questions for another time. yukhei would be held back if jeno were to ask him now. thus, he turns on his heel to retrace his steps through the hospital. there was so much time to spare anyways. as jeno passes some of the hospital's wings, he spots a curator or two on call, waiting for their appointments to begin. he recognizes one of them to be seo youngho, a regular curator that had been active for ten years. when jeno crosses paths with him, the older curator simply nods to him before ducking into one of the patient's rooms. jeno doesn't know why, but he suddenly quickened his pace, furthering the distance from him and that room.

 

without him noticing, jeno is back in the c.i.c.u waiting room. unlike before, it's empty. the family that once occupied nearly half the waiting room is gone. the air conditioning is blasting at full force through the quiet room, making it seem even more desolate. jeno is just about to leave when a flash of baby blue catches his eye. there, on one of the green waiting room chairs, is that baby blue blanket, hanging off the side, forgotten. jeno finds himself walking up to the blanket, inspecting the fleece from a short distance before his hand reaches out to it. in the blasting cold of the waiting room, the warmth is comforting, enveloping jeno's hand in a soft bundle of fleece. he folds the blanket into a neat square before tucking it under his arm. surely, it would be thrown away if someone else were to find it, and jeno knows that the family would not attempt to go back and retrieve it. thus, jeno would simply wash the blanket and monitor over it until he may have the opportunity to return it.

 

he settles in the ground floor waiting area. jeno watches curators go in and out every once in awhile, escorting clients or heading to an appointment. there's a group of nurses conversing by a nearby vending machine, and, from the scrubs, jeno can tell that they're stationed at the p.i.c.u. he hears one of them bring up a recently passed patient: “a sweet girl, always snuck out of her room to play dolls”. before he can hear more, there's a figure blocking his view. in fact, the figure is standing right in front of him. jeno blinks and looks up, recognizing the pulled-back brown hair and earth toned suit. the gloves are a familiar tint of pastel yellow. “yeri… you have an appointment soon.”

 

“in thirty minutes,” she answers. the youth curator sits beside him, unbuttoning her olive blazer. “the schedule said we would meet at the c.i.c.u waiting room, but i assume there were complications.” yeri doesn't pry, doesn't even wait for jeno to confirm her blunt assumption before she continues to speak. “jeno, you worked with a youth curator for the first time today. wong yukhei, was it? did you find the experience interesting?” it's a survey; jeno can tell. not often were regular curators scheduled to assist youth curators, but when they are, feedback is received. youth curators were much smaller in number compared to regular curators, despite the gaping difference in worldwide child to adult ratio. youth curating requires specific skills that regular curators often do not possess. thus, surveys - like the one yeri is administering right now - are made in case a regular curator may be transferred to youth curating. “would your schedule permit you to assist in youth curating again?”

 

jeno notices her eyes drift to the blanket in his lap. but before she can point it out, the younger replied, “if there are not complications in my current scheduling, then yes… these assisting appointments could be scheduled between regular appointments or at my off-times.” he’s getting up before yeri could even continue her survey, informing the youth curator that he should be heading off now. that’s false, though; he wasn’t scheduled to leave for another three and a half hours in preparation of his next appointment. but he needed air. the ground floor was too stuffy. everywhere was too warm. nonetheless, he tightly held the blanket under his arm. it’s causing him even more discomfort, providing unnecessary warmth to his side. his hold on the blanket loosens as he reaches the sliding doors of the hospital exit. cool air, a refreshing breeze to rid him of this warmth.

 

_crash!_

 

he was suddenly falling backwards, losing his balance and tripping over his oxfords. the blanket fell from his grasp. jeno sat motionless, face blank and eyes unfocused. there were two other figures before him, one also sprawled on the ground, mirroring jeno’s own position, while the other was bent down, trying to help the other up. soon enough, the two figures were helping jeno onto his own feet. “shit, i’m sorry! i wasn’t looking where i was going!” said the shorter figure. he was just below jeno’s height, perhaps a few centimeters off. his hair was dirty blonde, obviously not his natural color, and he wore dark navy scrubs. his companion was about jeno’s height, with white and pink teddy bear-patterned scrubs and dyed pink hair. “are you okay?”

 

“renjun, you just knocked this man on his ass… let him breathe a bit,” the pinkette chuckled before completely contradicting himself and repeating the question, “are you okay?” this earned him a shove to the shoulder. jeno gulped, patting down his blazer and pants and straightening his tie. he pushed through the encasing space the two made around him, now facing the two, his back towards the exit. the doors slid shut. “i’m fine. thank you for the concern.” jeno bowed to them quickly, readying himself to turn on his heels and leave before one of them - the blonde one - stopped him. jeno let his eyes roam to the stranger, who is holding out the baby blue blanket. without a word, jeno accepts the blanket into his own hands, bowing his head once again. both of the strangers smile at him, apologizing once again for knocking him to the ground. he says nothing in reply, simply nodding at them. when he tries to turn around once again, the pinkette interrupts him this time.

 

“uhh, we’re jaemin and renjun, by the way! renjun’s in oncology, and i’m in pediatrics. so if you have a complaint… don’t go there, and our names are june and reggie!” the pinkette grabs the blonde’s arm, turning them around and bidding jeno ‘goodbye’ in the process. jeno sees the shorter once again shove his companion, loudly at nagging him for embarrassing them.

 

he crooks his neck to look behind him. the sliding doors are still shut, and the cool air awaits him outside. when jeno looks to his front, he catches a glimpse of the two strangers entering into the elevator, smiling and laughing with one another. the fleece beneath his fingers is soft. the hospital is warm.

 

and jeno decides to stay inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all comments are appreciated,, feel free to leave your thoughts, responses, or reviews!


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